


Obsessions

by redrobinhood



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Force Choking (Star Wars), M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrobinhood/pseuds/redrobinhood
Summary: Thire had made his bed with the Empire. Perhaps literally. Thire had laughed when one of his subordinates had said that he was in bed with Vader. They hadn’t a clue how true that statement was. No one knew except for him and Vader. Thire liked it that way. He had never truly owned anything before, this was as close to possession as he was ever going to get.Taken from the Guard by Vader, Thire finds himself obsessed with the Sith Lord.
Relationships: CC-4477 | Thire/Darth Vader
Kudos: 5





	Obsessions

**Author's Note:**

> I stumbled upon a Vader/Thire slow burn months ago and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since.

Thire stood on the top of the spire of Fortress Vader, looking out into the sea of lava below. From here, he could see everything, including Vader’s descending shuttle. Good. He hadn’t prepared for nothing. But he’d known that. He knew Vader. He may have been the only being in the galaxy besides Vader’s master who knew who he truly was. Not that that mattered to Thire. Only Vader mattered. Thire turned and made his way back down the maintenance route until he was back in the main halls. There he set a course for his personal quarters, popping in briefly to go over his appearance one last time. He looked healthier than he had in years. His face had filled back out and the dark hollows under his eyes had faded. He had recovered well under Vader’s care.

From there he went to Vader’s office, where he perched on the edge of Vader’s desk and began to sort through the datapads that had been left behind. At a glance, Thire could take in their content and organize them in order of importance. That’s what Vader liked about him, he had told him that himself. Thire was the perfect clone. He had been the best marksman in the Coruscant Guard, surpassing even Commander Fox, he could take in and analyse data faster than most beings could read, and, most importantly, he was obedient. Unlike some of his fellow commanders who had broken, who had gone rogue or who refused to comply with the new regime, Thire had made his bed with the Empire. Perhaps literally. Thire had laughed when one of his subordinates had said that he was in bed with Vader. They hadn’t a clue how true that statement was. No one knew except for him and Vader. Thire liked it that way. He had never truly owned anything before, this was as close to possession as he was ever going to get.

He didn’t stand to attention when Vader entered the room. Instead he sat still and waited for Vader to approach the desk. Then Vader was before him, and Thire could breathe in the familiar scent of leather and metal, mechanics and flesh. Vader placed a hand against Thire’s breastplate, then slowly moved it up the black plastoid to grasp the bottom of Thire’s helmet. The helmet was removed slowly, almost painfully slow, and Vader placed it beside Thire on his desk just as slowly before returning his hand to Thire’s head and pressing his fingers up roughly into Thire’s hair. It was long enough for Vader to grip now. Thire liked when Vader gripped his hair.

“Lord Vader.” Thire greeted. He wished that the man’s suit didn’t function as a breathing apparatus. He wished that he could have removed the man’s helmet and kissed him. He would have loved to let Vader press against his lips, into his mouth, consuming him.

“Commander Thire.” The sound of his name coming from Vader made Thire’s heart soar. He wouldn’t have said it was love, Thire didn’t know if, as a clone, he was capable of love, but it was obsession.

“How was your trip?”

Vader’s hand fell from Thire’s hair to cup his jaw, running a leather finger across Thire’s lips. “Productive. I trust there were no issues in my absence.”

Thire pressed a kiss against Vader’s thumb. “None, my Lord. There are some subjects that the men wanted to bring to your attention, but none so important that they can’t wait.”

“Then clear off my workspace, Commander.”

Vader stepped back and Thire slid off of the desk. He gathered the datapads in his arms and took them to the side of the room, where he placed them on top of a storage cabinet. Then he walked back to Vader’s side and allowed the other man to lift him back onto his desk. Thire sat still and let Vader begin to strip off his armor. In the beginning, Thire had been the one to peel the black plates from his body, but Vader had been a fast learner and Thire’s desire increased with every light brush of Vader’s hands against his blacks. Thire pushed himself up so that Vader could take off his culet, then his codpiece. Thire palmed his growing erection through his blacks as Vader took off the rest of his armor. When Vader was done, Thire undid the zipper of his blacks and let Vader pull them off of him, over his head then slowly over his thighs until Thire was naked on the desk before him.

Vader pulled Thire’s hand away from his erection, pinning both of his hands to the table with the Force as he began to run his hands across Thire’s body. Up from his thighs to his torso, then finally to his throat, where he wrapped one hand around Thire’s neck and gave it a light squeeze. Thire let out a light breathy sound at the sensation. Vader knew how to make him squirm.

Something wet and cold was pressing against Thire’s thighs. He hadn’t noticed Vader removing his own codpiece. Thire leaned back and spread his legs on the table for Vader. He was ready this time. The first time, he had been unprepared and had embarrassed himself when Vader forced himself upon him. But this time, he was prepared, and his body was aching for Vader’s touch.

He let out a reedy moan as Vader slowly slid into him, allowing his body to tense up and relax throughout the movement. When the top of Vader’s thighs pressed against Thire’s body he froze and allowed Thire to adjust to the size.

Thire didn’t know how much Vader could feel, if anything, through the prosthetic, but that didn’t matter. The reason for Vader’s pleasure was Thire’s submission. For Vader, it was about power. It was about seeing Thire strung out and begging before him. Weak. Vulnerable. Submissive. Thire liked the submission. After being in power for so long as an officer in the GAR, he liked having no control over the situation, trusting that Vader would get him off in the end. And he did. It was the one payment Thire received for melting under Vader’s touch.

Vader pulled halfway out before he pushed back in again, causing Thire’s breath to hitch as he was filled once more. It almost hurt, but pain and pleasure were separated by a very fine line and, besides, Thire had been raised to like pain.

Vader slipped his hands under Thire’s waist and gently pulled him up so that their eyes could meet. Vader’s mask’s unwavering stare against Thire’s desperate gaze. Thire pushed himself further up and wrapped his arms around Vader’s neck, breathing in the scent of his armor as Vader began to thrust into him again. Like this, in Vader’s arms with his own arms and legs tangled around Vader’s body, Thire could rock against him. His own cock was hard, pressed between their bodies, but it wasn’t his turn yet. His release was up to Vader.

Vader cradled him for a few more thrusts before unwrapping Thire’s arms from his neck and forcing him back down onto the desk. This time, Thire propped himself up on his elbows and tilted his head back, presenting his neck to Vader. He was completely exposed to Vader, vulnerable.

“Please.” Thire begged. It hadn’t been his choice the first time. He had fought, tried to fight Vader off of him, and had been choked into submission. The second time, Vader had rested his hands against Thire’s throat the entire time. The third time, Thire had asked him for a little pressure. Now, Vader wrapped a single hand around Thire’s throat and squeezed. Thire let his eyes roll back as his breath caught, constricted by Vader’s fist. His body jerked, as if it could fight Vader off. It couldn’t. He couldn’t.

Every sensation heightened as Vader continued to thrust. He was aware of his body twitching as it tried to resist the iron grip, but he was also aware of the press of Vader against his prostate. Thire didn’t want him to stop. The grip on his neck tightened, and Thire felt his tongue press against the back of his lower lip as his body continued to blindly cling to life. Then Vader’s glove was there, pressing a thumb down on his tongue and into the back of his mouth, gagging him. Thire was helpless to resist.

He didn’t realize that Vader’s hand had left his throat until he came. Vader’s choke released as Thire did, leaving Thire to gasp and shake as he collapsed back onto the desk as his cum striped his stomach. Vader continued to fuck him through his orgasm, only stopping to pull out once Thire’s body had stopped shaking. Thire allowed his legs to fall open as Vader stepped away. Vulnerable. Submissive.

Vader walked around the desk to Thire’s head and began to stroke his hair again. Thire closed his eyes and leaned into the small gesture, only to open them when Vader stopped. Vader presented his other hand to Thire, the one covered in Thire’s cum. Thire opened his mouth and allowed Vader to stick his fingers inside one by one until they had been licked clean. Only then did Vader resume his gentle touch.

“Very good, Commander.” He praised.

Thire sighed when the touch was taken away, keeping his eyes closed as he heard Vader cross the room and the sound of a water tap. He listened as Vader replaced his codpiece before stepping back over to Thire. A warm, wet rag was run over Thire’s stomach, cleaning him of his release. Then it was run over his cock, and Thire bit back a moan at the gentle touch and the ache it left him with. Then Vader stepped away again.

Thire rolled over onto his side as best he could, curling his legs in to remain on the desk. He watched as Vader retrieved the datapads and took his seat at the desk beside Thire’s body. He lay silently on Vader’s desk as the man read through the first five datapads that had been provided, the five most important as Thire had seen them. The first time Vader had touched him, Thire had been left weak by the assault and had lain on the desk until he could find the strength to move again. Now, that had simply become their routine. As Vader looked over the datapads, he ran a hand up and down Thire’s bare thigh. His touch would end the moment Thire was back in uniform; Thire was determined to stall that moment as long as possible.

“You are dismissed, Commander Thire.” Vader finally spoke as he put down the last datapad.

Thire slowly pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the edge of the desk before Vader. He knew better than to argue with the man, and yet.

“Can I stay, my Lord?” He whispered.

Vader froze, then slowly turned his head towards Thire. He never saw it coming. The slap connected hard with the side of Thire’s face and he was thrown from the desk to the ground by the Force behind it. “No.”

Thire didn’t reach for the hurt on his cheek, instead he gathered up his gear and slipped all of his armor back on with brutal efficiency. His time as Vader’s plaything was done. It was time to be a commander again. The change didn’t hurt. That was how Thire knew it wasn’t love. But perhaps lust and compulsion were stronger, and even as he strode out of Vader’s office, he was ready to fling himself before Vader’s mercies again.


End file.
